


River of Deceit

by Hutcheeran91



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell, Simon Snow & Related Fandoms
Genre: Carry On Countdown (Simon Snow), Carry On Countdown 2019, Carry On Countdown Day 3, Day 3: Magical Creatures, M/M, Merboy!Simon, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch Is Gay for Simon Snow, baz is hopeless as always
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-28
Updated: 2019-11-28
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:02:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21588820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hutcheeran91/pseuds/Hutcheeran91
Summary: Baz had never, ever, in his almost seventeen years of life, seen so much beauty. He was utterly mesmerized. He couldn’t help but stare, and he felt absolutely no shame for it.
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Comments: 1
Kudos: 27





	River of Deceit

**Author's Note:**

> I swear I fucking loved writing this. It's not even that good, but it was so fun and I made lots of research. Also, I'm horrible with titles, so I used a song by Mad Season.  
> Hope you'll enjoy it :)

Baz had never, ever, in his almost seventeen years of life, seen so much beauty. He was utterly mesmerized. He couldn’t help but stare, and he felt absolutely no shame for it.

There was a boy not so far from his hideout. He seemed young, so young, and at the same time something about him seemed so ancient and mysterious, although Baz couldn’t put a finger on it. His hair flowed in soft golden curls, framing his face – it was such a perfect face, so harmonically built, almost angelic, made of gentle curves and freckles and – oh, those eyes. As blue and deep as the lake just behind him.

The boy was sitting on a rock with the water reaching his knees, while he brushed his hair with his hands, probably trying to detangle those glorious locks.

After an awful amount of time, to Baz’s dismay, the boy seemed to acknowledge Baz’s presence. Even so, he did nothing, he just curved his lips in a little yet charming smile. Baz felt his heart clench. His mouth run dry. His eyes widened. The lowering sun shone behind the boy, and he almost looked as if he was really shining of his own light.

 _He is the sun,_ Baz thought.

Then, the boy started singing in this low, low voice, which was crystalline, vibrant and gentle at once. His singing flowed through Baz like a river in flood, sweeping him off his feet. His mind went totally numb, and it felt good (so good). He felt alive, for the first time in a painful amount of time.

Baz was walking towards the boy now, but he had barely noticed, his mind was too drunk on him – on his voice. It was louder now, rising and rising. It wasn’t a placid stream anymore, no, it was more like a waterfall, which crushed Baz with his tumultuous power, filling his brain with white foam and rainbow-hued droplets that blunted his senses.

The boy stood up, still singing, and with an astonishingly broad smile he extended a hand towards Baz. As his smile became brighter, though, his song became darker, almost mournful. It had a deep eerie vibe, but it was unfathomably fascinating. Stunning, just like him.

The sun was lower too now, and it painted the boy’s silhouette, casting warm hues onto his pale skin. He looked like a God, like a mystical creature too devastatingly striking to be real.

_He is the sun, and I’m crashing into him._

Baz got closer to him. He felt dizzier with each step he took. He had his eyes on the boy’s hand. He felt so light-headed, he even though he saw something vaguely resembling scales on the other’s arm. He dispelled that thought immediately, looking back at the boy’s face.

His hair was ablaze with red and orange and purple, but his eyes were as cold as snow. As cold as that water he was into. He did not realize it was that cold, nor that now he was basically waist-deep in it.

The boy’s song got so loud it was almost deafening. The sun was slowly sinking into the lake.

Baz reached out to finally take his hand and, although they were embraced by that stinging water, a distant, still sober part of him could not help but think “ _This will end in flames_ ”.


End file.
